


Discouraged

by petrikoray



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, Depression Haze, Episode: s14e08 Byzantium, Gen, Mild Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts, spoilers for that episode, uwu rip me, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-24 21:24:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18170051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petrikoray/pseuds/petrikoray
Summary: Jack was evil to his very core, and everyone around him could see it.Yet why were they sticking by him?





	Discouraged

**Author's Note:**

> Hi this is a vent fic/something I submitted to my creative writing class and now I have to hope my teacher doesn't report me for wishing for death! 
> 
> Uhhhh I love my boy Jack okay and I don't _want_ him to suffer but he's just the best outlet I have

Jack was not what you'd consider normal.

No, he was straight from hell itself, an overpowering force threatening to destroy at all opportunities. Everyone knew it. He was evil to his very core, and everyone around him could see it. 

Yet why were they sticking by him?

There had been those times where Dean wouldn't trust him; when, right after his birth, Jack had been told repeatedly how evil he was, how he was made to be a weapon and nothing more. There had been times where Jack had hurt others, like the security guard he killed when he, Dean, Sam, and Castiel had tried to fight off some angels. The time when he had opened a door to an ancient, forgotten underworld, and almost didn't stop in time for it to close.

His powers were both a blessing and a curse. He could rescue Sam and Dean's mom from what they had dubbed as Apocalypse World, an alternate universe where they had never existed, but their mom would not be in that world if Jack hadn't opened it in the first place. He could instantly heal wounds or bring others back from the dead, but most of the wounds he healed and people brought back were those who had died for Jack's sake. 

Jack could do incredible things, but his good deeds never measured up to the heavy total of sacrifices made for him and things he had done wrong in the past.

This life he lead was unreasonably heavy. Of course, Jack definitely didn't have it as bad as Sam, Dean, or Castiel, but death was always just around the corner. Hell, all four of them had died before, and by some miracle, had survived each time. 

Jack almost wished he could die permanently.

Those who he hurt would be forever scarred, and the prospect of eternal life after all his friends had died was unbearable. _I was not meant to be a cosmic being,_ he thought absentmindedly, _for those cosmic beings are emotionless creators and destructors of nature, and I am a misguided boy who feels too much to be cosmic_.

It was cruel, how the universe had decided the fates of those who resided in it. 

Sighing, Jack swung his legs over the edge of his bed. 

Through all of his adventures, he had plenty of mishaps with the group. Of course, being the son of Lucifer, he was bound to be evil, but there was something there was a time when he believed otherwise. 

Jack wished he still had the ability to believe otherwise. 

He still wondered if he would go to Heaven or Hell when he died. Of course, there had been that one time where he'd gone to Heaven, but that was most likely a special case, since he'd only been there for a few days, and Castiel ended up giving away his happiness to save him. 

Guilt began pooling in his stomach at the memory, of the Empty's wide grin as she described how she'd kill Castiel. Now, Castiel would never be truly happy, for she told him in a chilling voice, when Castiel finally allowed himself to be happy, she would come fetch him. And now, miracles were surely running short after the total deaths of Dean, Sam, Castiel, and Jack leading up to one hundred and eighteen, eight, five, and one, respectively. Jack huffed a tired breath, a half-laugh that was more pathetic than an expression of humor; Sam had told him the story of the days he spent in a time loop, a recurring Tuesday, where the day would reset each time Dean died. Although originally traumatizing, it had become somewhat of a joke in the bunker they lived in. 

Jack hoped that Dean would never die again, but he was well aware that hopes often differed from reality. 

After staring absentmindedly at the floor for a while, Jack finally stood up. 

“Dear God,” he began, then immediately reconsidered. “Dear Grandfather,” he corrected himself. 

“I know we’ve never spoken face-to-face, but we’re family. And... the Winchesters live on a principle of family above anything.” Jack, slightly discouraged at the lack of appearance of his grandfather in the room, leaned back into his bed again. “If you share those same principles, then please, help me out. How do you-“ and Jack lost will to continue speaking to his absent grandfather. 

Morale was running low. 

Jack was very, very discouraged.


End file.
